


Someday You Will Be Loved

by complaining_is_cathartic



Series: Works that I say might become multi-chapter, but probably won't [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Artist Steve Rogers, Dark Steve Rogers, F/M, Kinda, M/M, MIT, No graphic description whatsoever, One-Shot, Steve Rogers Has Issues, The college thing doesn't play much of a part, Tony Stark Has Issues, brief mention of sex, kinda steve-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complaining_is_cathartic/pseuds/complaining_is_cathartic
Summary: Tony is a whirlwind of adventure and overwhelming emotions. Tony is a storm, changing everything he touches, sometimes good, and sometimes bad. Tony is fire. Tony is the future. And Tony is in love with Steve.Steve, well... There’s a difference between obsession and love. Steve has to learn that the hard way.





	Someday You Will Be Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, for anyone who cares, this is in lieu of a longer fic (still a one-shot tho) that I’m working on. It has (some) plot and everything! W’O’W! 
> 
> It’s also KINDA similar to this one, so I’m posting this one as a sort of prelude. 
> 
> Man seriously though, the fic is taking forever. This is why I don’t think I could commit to an actual multi-chapter story. 
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you guys like!

Steve remembers the year 1988.

He was an art student at MIT (with the help of a scholarship… his family wasn’t the richest), and he felt like he could do anything.

The world was new and exciting. Every day he got to decide what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go. Steve wasn’t ready for so many choices and so many responsibilities.

Everything was going by so fast. If he blinked, a whole year could just disappear.

People, old and new, breezed into and out of his life: Coulson, his high school guidance counselor. (Steve missed his dry humor and insightful advice). Peggy, his old flame. (Long distance was never going to work out.) Natasha, a close confidant. Clint, a friend to help forget his troubles.

Bucky.

Steve longed for his best friend with a fierce  _ache_. Their separation nearly _destroyed_ Steve. A void filled his chest and steadily grew and grew and  _grew_.

But then.

 _But_ ** _then_**.

Tony.

Tony, who called at 3 am to babble about his latest project. Tony, who, on their first meeting, called Steve a "beefcake" and declared that they would be best friends, screw Rhodey. (Steve still doesn’t know who that is.) Tony, who flirts unashamedly with  _anyone_ , but still manages to charm  _everyone_.

Tony. Tony. _T_ _ony._

Steve was fascinated with him, fascinated with his  _everything_.

Tony was like motion personified. He could never stay still. Whether it was tapping his foot while standing in line, drumming his fingers while sitting at a desk, or gesturing wildly while talking to someone, Tony was  _moving_.

Forget motion, Tony was  _life_.

And Tony was Steve’s muse.

For a long time, there was no Steve without Tony. No Tony without Steve.

The artist desired, craved,  _hungered_ to capture Tony’s essence. Steve  _needed_ to claim that brilliance for himself.

Paint blurred together on the canvas, a mockery of Tony’s image. Steve’s strokes grew less coordinated, frantic.

“No. No no no no no no _NO!_ ”

He just couldn’t get it right. Thin, crisp lines would  _never_ portray the maelstrom that was Anthony Edward Stark. Never.

For once in Steve’s life, art wasn’t enough.

He would never be able to contain Tony’s energy and copy it down on any kind of medium. Nothing would work. Nothing was good enough. If Steve couldn’t reproduce Tony’s intensity, he would  _take_ it.

The two fell in bed together.

Everyone who knew the pair predicted it from a mile away.

Tony opened up to Steve beautifully. He let Steve  _take_ and  _take_ and  _take_. But Steve was never satisfied. He needed more. And Tony gave it to him, whatever Steve wanted.

Now, there was no Tony. Only Steve. And now there was no Steve. Only Tony.

The light in Tony dimmed. He gave it all to Steve. The creativity in Steve waned. He gave it all to Tony.

No more inventing binges and no more paintings. No more snarky comments and no more cheerful greetings.

The only thing that mattered to the two were each other.

 

* * *

 

At first, Steve didn’t notice anything was off.

But, the little things just kept adding up to make an unpleasant picture.

Tony stopped calling at 3 am, stopped flirting, stopped gesticulating, stopped  _moving_. Tony stopped. _Life_ stopped.

Still, Steve took. He wanted anything he could get. Anything to fill the black hole in his chest. Even as Tony stumbled and cracked and withdrew, Steve took with a depraved urgency.

As the genius withered before Steve’s eyes, the artist couldn’t help but panic. He  _needed_ Tony’s vigor. He needed to take it all before the genius faded away. He still wasn’t full.

Steve ravished and ravaged  _his_ boyfriend.  _His_ muse.  _His_.

And it wasn’t until afterward, lying in bed facing each other, that Steve finally,  _finally_ , looked at Tony. Unlike the other times Steve looked, he actually, truly  _saw_.  

A person who once took up the whole room with his presence was now small and silent. A person who once shone with radiance was now dull and subdued. A person who once incarnated life now looked like death.

This person in front of Steve was not Tony Stark.

And despite Steve’s sickening treatment, this person still gazed at him with reverence in their eyes.

The artist recoiled, reeling from the realization of what he had become. The word “monster” would be too kind.

Steve felt a tear slide down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Tony smiled, serene, and reached out a shaking hand, wiping the tear away. “I know,” he whispered. And then, “I still love you.”

 

* * *

 

Tony woke up the next day, alone and so very cold.

Steve left him battered and bruised and broken. He couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised.

What would Tony be now, with Steve gone? A void filled his chest and steadily grew and grew and  _grew_.

The  _boy_ flopped onto his side, curling into the warmth Steve left behind. A soft crinkle startled him, breaking him from his shame.

Steve left a note.

Hands trembling harder than ever, Tony grasped the letter, delicate hope blooming in his chest only to be irrevocably shattered.

_"Someday, you will be loved."_

 

* * *

 

**Extra?**

Steve sees him at an art gala.

He’s there for business, no doubt. Billionaire geniuses need to keep up appearances, after all.

Steve is there to display his own work and perhaps to admire someone else’s.

The blonde has finally calmed down, something has settled in his bones. The hunger is but a distant memory.

Seeing Tony, all he can feel is regret.

The man looks good again. Steve remembers the skinny creature he left behind all those years ago and cringes.

He wants to apologize. Wants to hold Tony close and tell him how great he is. Instead, he watches silently as Tony stops in front of his painting. It’s filled with rushed strokes and vibrant colors. But even through the blurred lines, one can make out a brilliant smile and warm chocolate eyes.

It’s Tony.

As the man tenses up, Steve approaches his old lover. He wants to explain himself, explain his actions. Explain that he never meant to hurt Tony.

But someone else reaches the genius.

She’s got strawberry blonde hair and freckles dotted across her face. Tony leans into her soft touch. They smile at each other, and it’s clear that, to them, the outside world disappears.

Tony used to smile at him like that.

Steve turns and walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> You guys. I was so tempted to leave it after the letter. But I didn’t. Lol, idk if that was a good or bad thing. The extra can be the true ending or you can choose for it not to be. It’s just an extra. 
> 
> Anyway, as some of you probably realized, this is based on the song “Someday You Will Be Loved” by Death Cab for Cutie.


End file.
